Disclaimer: I don't own hetalia.
I did this when I was bored and why do I always name my fanfictions with something to do with food? OTL I'll try harder next time.
Rain plummeted down onto Arthur Kirkland as he fumbled with his keys in front of his apartment. Finally unlocking the door, he stepped inside completely drenched and set his groceries on the floor beside him. He shed his coat and looked up, to find his apartment in a pigsty.
Arthur could only think of one culprit, his adopted brother and roommate, Alfred F. Jones. The American was found lazing in front of the television in filthy baggy clothes clutching a hamburger. Arthur stomped over to him, blocking his view of the TV to get his attention.
"What happened to the apartment?! I was only at the supermarket for 20 minutes and it's already a mess again!" the Brit yelled.
"Artie! I'm missing my show!" Alfred whined. "Fine. Be that way then. And just so you know Mattie's coming over from Canada in a couple of days and he's bringing his cousin. Isn't that great?"
Matthew Williams was Alfred's best friend from primary school. They were inseparable and were thought to be trouble-making brothers. After Matthew had turned nine, he moved back to Canada with his family. They both kept in contact and still visit each other occasionally.
"Stop changing the subject! Wait what? If there's people coming over why did you trash the place?!" Arthur fumed.
"Well, I tried taking out the trash when I spotted my underwear in the garbage so I attempted digging them out but the garbage truck came so I put out the remains of what was left in the trash can. I was about to clean up the mess but I was too hungry to clean anymore." He explained with great difficulty.
Arthur face-palmed. "That is the worst excuse I have ever heard."
"It is not!" Alfred said, crossing his arms. "And you better be nice to his Mattie's cousin too!"
"Fine, now help me clean up this mess! You are not getting out of it that easily." The Brit declared, dragging the flailing American to the mess and shoving a broom in his hands.
After a lot of hard work, complaining and convincing Alfred to dispose of his 'Captain America' boxers, the apartment was finally clean.
"So who is this 'cousin' of Matthew's that you want me to be so nice to?" Arthur questioned, sitting down in an armchair with a cup of tea.
"Oh- Uh, Francis Bonnefoy, he's uh… French?" Alfred replied staring at his feet, not wanting to see Arthur's reaction.
Arthur choked on his tea. He has had a really bad experience with French people, as they were either rude or flirtatious.
"But Mattie is part French! You like him don't you? Francis could be a nice guy too, right?" Alfred said quickly, as he didn't want to have to put up with Arthur complaining and arguing all night.
To Alfred's surprise, Arthur sighed and said "…I suppose you're right." He set his tea on the small coffee table in front of him. "I shouldn't judge people before I've even met them and Matthews a nice boy..."
Somebody knocked on the door, which was weird considering they weren't expecting visits for a few days and nobody really visits anyway. "I'll get it!" The American declared, leaping up from his place on the couch and rushing to the door.
Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed, also trudging towards the front door. He couldn't see much since Alfred was in the way but there seemed to be two girls with blonde hair on the doorstep.
"I wasn't expecting you to come so early!" Alfred yelled, giving one of the girls a hug.
"W-well we wanted to surprise you!" A very quiet voice declared.
"Alfred, I didn't know you had a girlfriend" Arthur said, gesturing towards the door, a little shocked.
To Arthur's surprise, Alfred started laughing so hard that he was clutching his stomach and tears were rolling down his face. Arthur only stared at him with pure confusion.
"N-no its Mattie and Francis! Are you sure you don't need glasses?" He managed to splutter out through his laughing.
Arthur's cheeks began to heat up. "W-Well you were in the way so how was I supposed to tell? And why don't you let them in considering how wet they must be from standing out in the rain?"
"A-ah yeah, come in!" Alfred said, stepping aside. The two blondes entered with their luggage. Arthur had to admit, if he didn't know Matthew and Francis were cousins, he would've assumed they were brothers. Francis had shoulder length blonde hair, while Matthews was shorter but very alike.
"Oh, Arthur, this is my cousin Francis. Al already met him when visiting me in Canada once…" Matthew said/whispered shyly, gesturing towards Francis who was taking his shoes off beside him.
"Uh, hi…" Arthur said, twiddling with his fingers over his uncertainty with the Frenchman. When he looked up, Francis was right in front of him with a smug look of his face.
"Bonjour mon ami," Francis replied, grabbing Arthur's hand and kissing it. "nice to meet you."
Arthur tugged his hand away with an over-heated blush and scowl on his face. "You Frenchmen are all the same…" He muttered before storming off toward the kitchen.
"No Arthur!" Alfred and Matthew noticed his actions and literally dived for his feet, preventing him from entering the kitchen.
"What the bloody hell! I was only going to make scones!" The Brit declared, trying to struggle free of their grip.
"That's the point! We don't want the kitchen going up in flames!" Alfred pleaded, tugging on his brothers pants. He seemed to have tugged a little too hard, as Arthur's pants were now around his ankles. Both Alfred and Matthew immediately released their grip and hid behind the couch, well, more like Alfred dragged him along.
"Ohonhon is that the Union Jack I see?" Francis remarked with a smirk plastered on his face.
"S-Shut up you perverted bloody frog!" Arthur snapped, blushing furiously and struggling to pull his pants up.
Arthur felt a pair of arms snake around his waist. "Want me to help you with that, mon cher?" Francis whispered into his ear. This made Arthur turn 10 shades of red.
"Get your hands off me!" He shouted, attempting to squirm out of Francis' arms. When he finally succeeded, he stomped to his bedroom, slamming the door like a child having a tantrum. He also locked the door for good measure.
Francis sighed, running a hand through his hair before proceeding to the couch where Alfred and Matthew were 'hiding'.
"Don't worry about him, he always gets like this. I doubt you'll see him until tomorrow though." Alfred shrugged. "You can probably tell how much he hates the French… Must be an English thing." He said, laughing.
As Alfred said, they didn't see Arthur for the rest of the night.